


Purgatory

by panickyintheuk



Series: Abandoned WIPs [5]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Gen, Prison Ship AU, Purgatory
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-18
Updated: 2014-10-18
Packaged: 2018-02-05 05:47:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1807609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/panickyintheuk/pseuds/panickyintheuk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A canon-divergent AU set on the prison ship Purgatory.</p><p>**NOTE**: Probably obvious, but I lost my mojo on this one. I'm taking most of my unfinished WIPs down, but I decided to leave this one up. It is what it is! If anybody wants to adopt it, let me know.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Contact

**Author's Note:**

> I've fiddled around with the exact timeline and certain canon events in ways that will gradually become clear, but the basic universe remains the same. Please consult end notes if you're worried about the violence being triggering.
> 
> Thanks so much to Sabina for the speedy beta job, and for generally being my Bioware buddy!
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

“526,” says Garrus cordially. He’s been aboard the Purgatory a week, assigned to the human women’s wing (perhaps as a form of hazing, he thinks), and he already has favourites. 526 has iron in her spine. He admires the way she guards her dignity; her bearing makes him wonder if she had a military background. She had been the first of the prisoners to initiate conversation with him, and is still the most interesting.

He waits for a reaction, then realises that he’s unrecognisable beneath his headgear. She stares at him coolly.

"It's me," he says in a low tone, "Vakarian."

"Oh, hey," she says, and throws up two fingers in what he’s fairly sure is an obscene gesture.

"There's no need for insubordination," he hisses, then softens his tone. "If anyone sees I'll have to punish you."

She smirks. "No, that's the other way around. Up like this it means 'peace', see?"

"Oh," he says, embarrassed. "Like this?" He holds up his talons in the best imitation he can manage. She laughs.

"That's probably the best it's gonna get," she says around a grin. “Any updates on Durandis’s asari commando? I’ve been dying to hear whether she’s reached level 49 yet.”

“Apparently she’s been sidetracked romancing a quarian.”

“Scandalous,” she replies flatly.

Durandis is nobody’s favourite guard. He’s a brute with his charges and a bore with his colleagues, and talks entirely too much about Galaxy of Fantasy even for the tastes of those who play it. Nonetheless, it’s risky to mock him out in the open like this. 526 has a way of making him clumsy. He reminds himself that that is reason enough to stay away.

*

His mother had always loved stories of Earth. In turian tradition, the mother named the daughter and the father the son. He had been named Garrus, after Garrus Nikari, most trusted advisor to the ancient Chief Primarch Pohlus; his sister was named Solana, after Earth's sun.

It puzzled him sometimes, how two such different people could have fallen in love. Then again, perhaps it was duty that kept them together. It always seemed that love had faded far too quickly between his parents.

“What’s Earth like?” he finds himself asking 526 one day, surprising himself as much as her. He’s been trying to limit their time together lately - he knows that it’s frowned on for guards to get too friendly with the prisoners, and he isn’t sure if it would make 526 all that popular among the other inmates, either. He’d been lonely, though, and he’d been thinking about his mother, and somehow he had drifted here and asked the question without meaning to.

“You’re asking the wrong person,” she says. “I was raised on the good ship SSV Einstein. Only set foot Earthside a couple of times, and never for long.”

Garrus resists the urge to question her further. For all his curiosity about her life, part of him doesn’t want to know what she did to bring her here. If her parents were Alliance, though, it would explain a lot about the way she holds herself.

“Why do you ask?” she says at last, and he realises he’s been silent too long.

“My mother - she was interested in mythology. Wanted to be a Priestess when she was young. She read all kinds of mythology and Earth’s was her favourite. She always wanted to go there.”

“She dead?” asks 526 with a frown, then winces a little.

“She’s not dead. Very sick.”

“Mine too,” she says, subdued. “I’m sorry.”

“So am I,” he says back, trying to smile.

*

Kuril’s been cracking down, demanding that the guards “discipline” the prisoners more regularly. It isn’t a turian’s nature to resort to violence unless needed - it has to be trained into them. Durandis has been here longer than Garrus, and is comfortable enough handing out beatings, but Garrus has managed to avoid giving any so far. But Durandis is in a worse mood than usual, and he can’t escape forever.

“So I finally get enough XP to advance and my damn extranet glitches. This goddamn ship. Designed by humans, that’s its problem.”

Garrus hums placatingly and tries not to notice that they’re passing 526’s cell, but he can’t help but turn his head a little. Durandis’s eyes follow his.

“What the hell are you smiling about?” he barks. “You think it’s funny that your goddamn species can’t design a ship to save its life?”

“No, sir,” says 526.

“Don’t you take that tone with me. Vakarian, teach this piece of varren-shit some respect.”

“Sir, I -”

“What is it? Scared of a little girl?”

“No, sir.”

“Then get in there and teach her a lesson.”

Garrus lets himself into her cell with an icy-cold feeling surrounding him like a second carapace. Even if he were comfortable with needless violence, humans are so delicate, like insects - they seem so breakable. And 526 is the last human he would ever want to hurt.

“Get on with it, we have rounds to finish,” Durandis shouts at him from outside.

He raises his hand and strikes. 526 spits, and it’s stained red, the colour of her blood.

“You chicken?” she shouts in his face. “I know you can do better than that.” She raises her fists.

If he concentrates on her eyes, and not on her bloody lip or her outfit that will barely soften his blows, it’s just like sparring with his sister, he tells himself. She manages to get a punch in and he almost grins, adrenaline flooding his body, but then - 

“Use your baton, Vakarian, this isn’t a boxing match,” Durandis growls from outside, and that icy feeling is back. He pulls out his baton.

“COME on!” 526 screams in his face, like a war cry. “You think I can’t take a beating? Get the fuck on with it!”

He steals himself, and beats her, over and over. There’s a ringing in his ears that blocks out the sounds of hard rubber hitting soft flesh.

Durandis’s voice breaks through the fugue. “All right, that ought to do it. Go get washed up and catch up to me, we still have rounds to finish.”

*

Once Durandis is safely back in the guards’ common room, Garrus creeps up to the window of her cell and leans his forehead against the cool glass. 526 glances up, then smiles around her swollen lip and holds up the two fingers that mean “peace”. He holds up his talons and rests them against the glass.

“I have medi-gel,” he says softly. “May I come in?”

“My house is your house,” she says, then creaks out a painful-sounding laugh. “That’s Spanish, by the way.”

“Uh - my translator - ”

“Oh, right. Come on in, make yourself at home. I’d offer you coffee but I guess I’m out.”

It doesn’t seem like the right time to remind her that coffee would probably kill him. He lets himself into the cell for the second time that day - or ever - and sits beside her. Her back’s against the wall and she’s holding her knees. He may not be all that familiar with human body language, but he doesn’t think that’s a good sign. He administers the medi-gel to her carefully, making soothing sounds he’s not sure her ears can hear.

“Why did you goad me like that?” he asks. It’s not that he blames her for any of it, he just doesn’t understand.

“He would have noticed if you’d gone easy on me, and we both would have been punished. Plus they might get the wrong idea, think we were friends or something.”

“Which would be false.”

“Blatantly,” she says. 

Garrus wonders if any punishment they could mete out could be worse than this, as he listens to her struggle to breathe.


	2. I predict a riot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for canon-typical violence and brief mention of implied sexual assault. Thanks again to Bina for the beta!

“Edith?”

She shakes her head.

“Emily?”

She winces.

“Is that a bad name?”

“It’s not my favourite. I knew an Emily when I was a kid. She was mean as fuck.”

“Evelyn?”

“Nope.”

“Give me a hint.”

“Well, that would kinda defeat the purpose, wouldn’t it?”

“Which purpose would that be, annoying me? I’ll get it out of you eventually. I’m not going to keep calling you 526 forever.”

“No? What’ll you call me instead?”

“Maybe I’ll call you the pain in my ass.”

“Vakarian, if there’s a pain in your ass, maybe it’s because of the stick you keep up there,” she says, voice dripping with false concern. He glares at her in lieu of a comeback.

“When your mom was telling you about Earth mythology,” she changes the subject, sensing she’s won, “did she ever tell you what the word ‘Purgatory’ means?”

“Not that I remember.”

“Well, my mother’s grandparents were Catholic, so I know a thing or two about it. It’s a place you go before you go to Heaven. If you’re righteous enough to escape Hell, but not quite pure enough for Heaven, Purgatory’s where you prove yourself worthy. Doesn’t seem appropriate, does it? We’re not _righteous_ , we don’t have the opportunity to prove ourselves worthy, and the only place we’re gonna go from here is slavery. Which has never sounded all that heavenly to me, I have to say.”

“Are you afraid of being bought?”

“Better the devil you know.”

“I’m glad they keep your hair shaved,” he says. She looks at him like he’s crazy, which he probably is, but not because of the non sequitur. “It’s so pretty,” he explains, “it might have attracted the… wrong type of customer. Made you stand out.”

They only shave it once every six weeks or so, and he’s seen the fuzz. He’s fascinated by the fiery-red of it.

“Hmm. Think you might be projecting there, Vakarian. My hair’s not all that special.”

“Nonsense. I’ve seen a lot of humans, and I’ve never seen quite that colour before.”

“If you say so, buddy.”

He lowers his voice. “Speaking of buyers… we’re supposed to have some visitors tomorrow.”

“Oh yeah? They browsing?” Her voice doesn’t waver, but her jaw tics.

“I don’t think so. Rumour has it they’re coming for Jack.”

“Jack? The one they keep in cryo because she makes everyone piss their pants?”

“That’s the one.”

“I’m guessing they’re not looking for a sex slave, then.”

He shakes his head. “They’re supposed to be from Cerberus.”

“Cerberus?” she almost shouts. “Those sons of bitches? I took down my share of Cerberus projects when - ” she falters.

“When what?” he says eagerly.

“It’s a secret. Better watch your back tomorrow, Vakarian.”

*

She was right, of course, he thinks as he reloads his rifle, but it wasn’t actually Cerberus’s fault. If that barefaced idiot Kuril hadn’t decided to take the Cerberus party hostage, this total clusterfuck would never have happened. They would have left with Jack still in cryo, Kuril would have had a little extra money in his pocket and everything could have gone on as normal.

As it is, the most dangerous and unhinged human biotic in the system is running loose, along with the rest of the sector, and to top it off they’ve got three Cerberus agents trying to shoot their way through the chaos and claim their bounty. What’s worse is that 526 is pointing a gun at him.

He’s not an idiot. He always knew that whatever “friendship” he had with her had to be purely pragmatic from her side, and he didn’t fool himself otherwise. And honestly, if he has to go, she should be the one to pull the trigger - it makes a certain kind of sense. Still, he can’t pretend it doesn’t sting. He’s fired a couple of concussive rounds at her, for the sake of appearances, but they only glanced off her reinstated tech shield. He can’t bring himself to hurt her again.

The bullet whistles past his fringe. “Missed,” he thinks triumphantly, and allows himself a grin, before he hears a yell and a thud behind him. He wheels around - the bullet went straight into the heart of a prisoner who was creeping up on his six.

He turns back to catch her throwing him a peace sign.

Luckily the other convicts are too busy rioting to pay attention, and if any of the guards noticed they’ll probably write it off as either a mistake or a grudge.

Garrus picked a spot where he could snipe from cover, but the other guards are on the ground. If they both just keep out of the fight until the guards and prisoners have taken care of each other… but she’s right in the fray. She needs a clear path to safety.

He sees her notice at the same time he does - Durandis is gaining on her. She rolls away to cover before he can take down her shields, but he’s getting closer. If he manages to flank her, she’s finished.

Garrus gets Durandis in his sights and executes a perfect headshot.

There are more dead bodies on the ground than live ones now, and the guards are winning. She has to move before they’ve picked off everyone else. He motions to her, and she runs full pelt at the ladder. She’s hit by the occasional stray bullet, but she’s a Sentinel and her shields can take it. She’ll be vulnerable climbing up, though, so he crawls over and puts a hand out to help pull her up, then drags her to cover with him.

“Where did you get the gun?” he murmurs, curiosity getting the better of him.

“Same place the others did. Dead guard. Probably one of the ones Jack dealt with. Now what are we going to do about the rest of them?”

“We can pick them off from up here, but then what? There might still be reinforcements to come, unless they’re all bodyguarding Kuril.”

”I say we stay low until this room is clear, then find Cerberus, get passage. Failing that, see if we can find an intact escape pod and take our chances. That’s a last resort.”

“I thought you hated Cerberus.”

“Well, strange bedfellows, as they say. You got a better idea?”

“Not exactly,” he grits out, “but I still don’t like it.” He peeks out of cover, and sees two humans in white uniforms and a salarian in a white coat. They’re making short work of dispatching the remaining guards. “Your bedfellows are here.”

“The guards?”

“Nearly down.”

She pops out of cover and shoots. “Down,” she says breathlessly, then straightens, hands aloft.

“We surrender,” she calls, “with one condition. Safe passage off this ship.”

“What makes you think you’re in a position to negotiate?” says the female human with long, dark hair. She looks entirely unimpressed.

“There’s three of you, and a whole lot more guards protecting Kuril. The two of us have made it this far, and Vakarian knows the layout and can infiltrate the other guards.”

“And just why are a turian guard and a human prisoner working together?” says the bald man with very dark skin.

Garrus looks at 526 helplessly. “We’re friends,” she says firmly and without hesitation. Now the female human looks like she might be slightly interested after all.

“All right,” she says. “Vakarian, go on ahead and try to flank the Blue Suns. If you betray us I’m sure your _friend_ here will take care of you for me. You -”

“Jane,” says 526.

“Jane. You stay with us.”

*

 _Jane_ , he thinks as he rounds the corner, _her name is Jane_.

The remaining Blue Suns turn their guns on him as he enters, then lower their weapons when they recognise him.

“I’m the only one who made it out,” he says, breathless. “Cerberus is coming.”

“Why didn’t you take care of them rather than running out with your tail between your legs?” demands Kuril. _You’re one to talk, you barefaced ass_ , thinks Garrus, _hiding behind a reinforced shield and asking your men to die protecting you_.

“I wanted to warn you,” he says, using the excuse to move closer to Kuril, flanking the other Suns. “Better get ready, they’ll be here any second. I’ll snipe from the platform.”

As he swings himself up into position, the Cerberus party makes itself known. The woman sprints towards cover; the man pulls two of the Suns forward for the woman to shoot at before taking cover himself; the salarian sets someone on fire. Garrus is aware of all this, peripherally, but his eyes are on Jane as she edges around the room towards the first of Kuril’s shield generators. Her tech armour is activated but it’s taking a beating, and he’s thinking he might have to reveal himself to protect her when suddenly one of the Suns is suspended in the air, screaming, and he watches as Jane’s shields regenerate. He didn’t know she could reave. That’s good. That’ll keep her alive.

He fires occasional concussive rounds at the Cerberus party to avoid suspicion, bruising their shields but doing little else. They’re doing well at keeping the Suns occupied while Jane takes down Kuril’s generators - she’s approaching the second now - but he hopes she has the good sense to keep Kuril suspended and harmless until his bodyguards are down. He’s pretty confident that she does.

When there are only three Suns left Garrus decides it’s time to make himself useful, and cleanly dispatches one before taking cover to reload. He can hear Kuril roar in anger as he realises his betrayal, but his shields are still up and there’s nothing he can do. By the time he’s reloaded, there’s only one guard left standing, and he’s on his last legs. Garrus is about to put him out of his misery when he’s propelled screaming into the air in another reave.

“Say you’re sorry,” she says, coldly.

The guard screams in confusion.

“Say you’re sorry for what you did to Sylvie in the showers.”

“Who?”

“Prisoner 451.”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

“Too late,” she mutters, and she drains the last dregs of life out of him.

“Well, that was very dramatic,” says the Cerberus woman, sounding bored. “I suppose I’ll overload the generator, shall I?”

Jane ducks as the woman casually throws an overload at the last remaining shield, leaving no barrier between Garrus and Kuril. A shot rings out.

He hears his name, as if through water. He sees blue. He smells his own syrup-sweet blood.


	3. Awakening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! I was determined not to post it until I had chapter 4 in the bag, but that's taking FOREVER, so I'm putting it up a bit prematurely.
> 
> Please bear in mind that Shep's opinions on the other characters are not necessarily my own, and may evolve as she gets to know them better.
> 
> As always, thanks to Bina for the beta!

She’s Shepard again. For nearly three years she had called herself prisoner 526, even within the confines of her mind. It was how she had lain low and escaped beatings, how she had refrained from trying to knock out every guard who overstepped his bounds. ‘Shepard’, she knew, wouldn’t stand for that shit. But Shepard would be dead by now. Prisoner 526 compromised, and prisoner 526 survived.

Vakarian wasn’t the first guard to show any kindness - it wasn’t uncommon for fresh-faced new guards to enter the ship and believe that what they were doing was for the greater good. By the time they’d been forced to give out a few beatings, most of them had turned stony and cruel, but some of them more than others. Vakarian wasn’t the first guard not to be a sadist, wasn’t the first guard who’d shown some decency, but he was the first guard who’d really been interested in her. Talking to him, she’d started to feel like Jane again - but Jane was a girl, and Shepard was a warrior. She hadn’t felt like Shepard until the lock to her cell had clicked open and she’d felt the biotic dampers lift.

She‘s Shepard again, but she’ll be damned if anybody is going to find out.

*

The Cannae’s crew can whisper all they like - it’s not as though she’s been loitering outside the med bay all night. Doctor Chaudhry had assured her that EDI, the ship’s AI, would inform her of any change in Vakarian’s condition, and she might as well get to know the ship. She’d taken the opportunity to scope out potential allies, as well as those she needed to keep an eye on.

Chief among the second group was Captain Lawson herself, who was clearly a Cerberus loyalist. She’d apologised for putting Vakarian in danger - for damn near getting him killed - but not without reservations. ‘How was she supposed to know that he’d been made?’, that kind of thing. Shepard knows the type. Afraid of weakness, unable to admit a mistake.

Compared to her, Taylor, the XO, is alright. Ex-Alliance, has his issues with Cerberus. Shepard likes him, but she doesn’t see him siding with her against Lawson any time soon. He might stay neutral but he won’t fight for her.

Shepard didn’t try too hard with Mordin - she’s pretty sure he’ll side with whoever gives him a pretty lab to play with, and that’s Miranda. Besides, Shepard’s never quite got the knack of talking to Salarians.

Jack is an obvious accomplice - fellow inmate (not that they’d ever met before), hates Cerberus with a burning passion. She’s pissed off, though, and unpredictable, and she probably wouldn’t mind seeing Vakarian dead on principle. Shepard has decided to approach with caution, but she’s pretty sure she can count on Jack’s support if it comes down to it

Right now, Kasumi is her best bet. She agreed to join the mission in exchange for a favour, so she has no real ties; she’s comfortable operating on the wrong side of the law; and most important, Shepard’s gut tells her that this one can be trusted. It was Kasumi who told her that she could sleep on the couch next to hers, it was Kasumi who shared a drink with her, and it was Kasumi who talked to her sympathetically about Vakarian’s injury.

That was the team, then, but overlooking the crew would be a mistake. She’d chatted with the engineers and promised to get them the FBA couplings they were hankering after if she got a chance, plus she’d played a couple of rounds of Skyllian Five against them (though she preferred Hold‘em herself). She’d lulled them into a false sense of security, asking them to “teach” her how to play, then she’d taken them for 500 credits. She’s pretty sure she’d made a good impression there.

She introduced herself to the pilot, Aeryn McBride, who must have inherited her name from a different side of the family than her looks - she’s olive-skinned, with hazel eyes and chestnut hair pulled into a ponytail. She was in the middle of a game of 20 Questions with EDI when Shepard walked in, and she’d been friendly enough, but guarded.

Kelly Chambers, meanwhile, is chatty and a flirt. She seems to be a card-carrying member of the Cerberus fan club, but she was careful to point out that that didn’t mean she had anything against aliens. Shepard is pretty sure she can be swayed in time.

The last person she’d talked to had been Mess Sergeant Gardner, and that was a success. She’d commiserated with him over the poor ingredients, and promised him that she’d keep an eye out for decent provisions when and if she went groundside. They spent a while talking recipes, and then she’d taken up a post outside the med bay doors with one of Kasumi’s justicar novels. It was that or sleep, and although she’s exhausted, she’s been hitting the coffee pretty hard since she arrived. It had been euphoric to drink coffee again - even the shitty freeze-dried stuff tasted like ambrosia.

*

She’s halfway through chapter eight when she hears the doors swoosh open to her right, and Dr Chaudhry steps out of the med bay, carrying the muted, spicy scent of his cologne with him.

“Your friend is awake. Would you like to see him?” he says in his quiet voice.

Shepard scrambles up from her cross-legged position on the floor and looks around for somewhere to put the book. She moves to drop it carefully on the floor, but Dr Chaudhry puts his hand out for it with a smile, and Shepard pushes it towards him and heads through the med bay doors without a glance back.

Vakarian is sitting up. He looks alert, but his face is wrecked.

“Jane,” he says. It’s the first time she’s heard him say her name. “He won’t give me a mirror. Must be pretty bad, huh?”

“Hell, Vakarian, you were always ugly, even for a turian. Which side got hit, again?”

His mandibles twitch. “You know, some women find facial scars attractive.”

“Most of those women are krogan.”

He lets himself laugh this time, then immediately winces. “Don’t make me laugh, it hurts.”

“I can’t help it,” she says, stepping closer. “I’m a comedian.” She lays her cool hand against his injured cheek, and she will remember this as the first time she touched his face. Memory is a choice, and she chooses to forget that first time, holding him together, covered in his blue, syrup-smelling blood, while Solus tried to pry her hands away and the sounds of Kuril’s last stand faded into white noise.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Miranda named the ship! Obviously she doesn't have the Alliance rank of Captain, but she's in charge of the (non-military) ship so I figured that was still the correct terminology? Let me know if you know any better. That kind of thing confuses the hell out of me.


	4. Talons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks, as always, to Bina.
> 
> Wow, this took a long time! Sorry folks, I'm worse than George RR Martin. The next chapter is probably a while away, too, because I've foolishly signed up for NaNo this year. Wish me luck.

“Aren’t you just dying to wake up the krogan?” asks Kasumi. Shepard glowers.

“Jane has already appealed to my curiosity,” cuts in EDI. “It was unexpected to discover that this did in fact have some effect. However, I cannot countermand a direct order from the ship’s captain.”

“Don’t you think it’s a little hypocritical? She was genetically engineered for ‘perfection’ herself, right?”

“That’s what I heard,” says Kasumi. She always sounds quietly amused, but she isn’t mocking, Shepard reminds herself.

“So we have a tank-grown krogan whom Okeer claimed was the cream of the crop, and we’re just not gonna use him. Fantastic.”

“Krogan can be unpredictable at the best of times,” says Kasumi.

“You’re siding with Lawson?”

“I didn’t realise we had to declare allegiance.” As usual, most of Kasumi’s face is hidden, but Shepard can tell she isn’t smiling.

“Sorry. I’m in a shitty mood. I should go eat some of Rupert’s cooking so I at least have an excuse.”

*

It isn’t that she has cabin fever - between a spacer childhood and two years in prison, there isn’t much chance of that happening. If anything, she’s still getting used to having the run of the ship. She’s just frustrated - frustrated that Lawson hasn’t given her the chance to prove herself on the field yet; frustrated at Chambers’ questions, which are a lot less subtle than she thinks they are; frustrated at the knowing looks she gets from the crew every time she goes to talk to Vakarian. And that’s another thing - Vakarian never approaches her. He never approaches anyone. He’s talked to Ken and Gabby maybe a couple of times about upgrades to the main guns, and she thinks he's exchanged a few words with Taylor, _once_. Other than that, he shuts himself away in the main battery.

It’s not like she’s hurting for company or anything. She and Kasumi are basically roommates, and have become close, occasional bickering aside; Ken and Gabby are always good for a game of cards; she often drops in to talk to Mohandas in the med bay; she exchanges dirty jokes with Rupert every time she walks by. Even Taylor is alright if you catch him in the right mood.

The fact is, Shepard is a big girl who’s faced death enough times not to pussyfoot around, and she can admit that she has feelings for Vakarian besides friendship. She doesn’t expect anything besides friendship back (though she’s willing to risk getting shot down), but right now she’s getting a whole lot of nothing.

Her father would probably have told her to give him space, but she’s her mother’s daughter through and through, for better or worse. She approaches the battery doors and steps through.

“Hey Vakarian, I was just gonna grab a bite. Care to join me?”

“Oh, Jane. I was actually - ”

“Calibrating something? Come on, V, when was the last time you ate?”

“Forgive me if dextro MREs don’t give me much of an appetite.”

“Do you want me to talk to someone, see if they can get in some better rations for you?”

“There’s not a lot of point. I’m the only dextro-DNA alien on the ship.” He says ‘alien’ like it’s some kind of an insult. Shepard wonders if someone’s been giving him hassle, or if he’s come up with this neurosis all by himself. “Anyway, I can live on that stuff, even if it’s not exactly gourmet.”

“What do the quarians do for food - on the flotilla?”

“I think they grow things. Have garden ships.”

“Hmm. Well, if we cross paths with the migrant fleet maybe we can make a trade. Lawson for a vegetable box seem fair?” Vakarian’s injured mandible twitches, and then he seems to wince. She pretends not to notice. “Won’t you join me? I hate eating alone.” It’s a lie. Shepard doesn’t hate doing much of anything alone, lucky for her.

Vakarian casts a reluctant look at the gun, then turns back to her. “Sure, I could probably use a break anyway.”

*

Vakarian shrinks under the curious glances of the crew, and Shepard can’t help but feel a little impatient. They would have looked their fill by now if it didn’t take wild horses to drag him out of the gun battery. The way he picks at his mush of food is what Hannah would have called ‘bird-like’, though never within Turian hearing. The thought makes her smile despite herself.

“Hey, Kasumi pointed out that I didn’t really get a chance to keep up with the latest vids while I was on the Purgatory. I hadn’t really thought about it, but she’s right. She wants to show me ‘Talons’. You should join us.”

“Isn’t that the human horror vid where crazed Turians attack? All the Turian reviews said it was terrible, which I guess isn’t surprising, but… I’m not sure I’d be the intended audience.”

“That’s the whole point, Vakarian. You watch bad horror movies so you can make fun of them. Or maybe you’d prefer ‘Fleet and Flotilla’?”

“I’m not sure what you’re implying,” he replies slyly.

“You know exactly what I’m implying. So what’s it to be, offensive anti-Turian propaganda or thinly-veiled cross-species erotica?”

“When faced with a choice like that, I don’t know how I’m supposed to decide.”

“Come on, V. I’ll let you hold my popcorn.”

“Well, in that case…”

*

Shepard may have had slight reservations about putting a master thief and an ex-prison guard in the same room together, but a quiet kinship soon settles over them. Of course, she’s the common factor between them, but she almost feels a little out of place. A little loud, a little brash, a little - spiky. Kasumi is so composed, and Vakarian so withdrawn, that Shepard feels as though she’s talking too much and taking up too much space.

That’s just at first, though. A half hour into the vid, Vakarian is dumbfounded enough to have come out of his shell a little (“we don’t have shells!” he shouts at the screen, where a human actor in some kind of unconvincing holosuit portrays a rabid Turian. Shepard resists the urge to apologise on behalf of her entire species - hell, she’s not from Earth).

He does indeed hold her popcorn for her. “What would happen if you ate some?” she asks him during a lull in the action (a pretty human girl has retreated to the sewers, for reasons which are unclear).

“Probably nothing, or indigestion. But worst case scenario, I get ileus. And if it’s left untreated, or surgery goes wrong, I could die.”

“There goes my idea for a dare,” she jokes.

“It’s pretty rare, but there’s one story about a Turian mining ship that got knocked off-course, crash-landed on some nothing little garden world. The crew got so desperate for food they ate some of the local wildlife - amino-based. They were rescued two days later, but at that point half the crew was past help. Too late to operate. If they’d just stayed hungry a little longer, they would have been fine.”

“Hunger can’t be reasoned with,” Kasumi puts in quietly. There’s a sore point there, Shepard sees instantly - she’s used to sizing people up for weaknesses; it’s hard for her to turn it off, even among friends. The silence afterwards is in danger of going on too long, making Kasumi feel too exposed.

“Shh,” Shepard says, “I think this chick is about to eat it.”

*

Vakarian retires to his cubby in the battery soon after the vid is over. Shepard considers the night a success, though. They all bonded, she thinks - and she’s glad Vakarian and Kasumi have had a chance to get to know one another. Gun to her head, if she had to trust anyone to watch her six, it would be those two.

She’s thinking of mixing herself and Kasumi a nightcap when EDI calls her to Lawson’s office. She tries to remember the last time she did anything particularly insubordinate, and draws a blank.

She’s none the wiser as she steps into the office.

“Jane,” Lawson says coolly. “There’s been another colony abduction, this time on Horizon. Solus thinks he’s developed a countermeasure to the seeker swarm. We should be there by tomorrow morning. I’ll want you on the ground.”

**Author's Note:**

> Institutionalised violence (like we see on the Purgatory in-game); violence against a woman which draws some blood. A major character is coerced into being violent towards another major character. She acts like she's fine with it, but we'll see about that.


End file.
